Someone Else's Baby

by Someone Else's Baby (retail) (epub)

  ‘I know and I’m truly sorry.’ She bowed her head. ‘I should have acknowledged that and known when to stop trying, to appreciate what I already had. You and your dad. I can see now that I messed things up for both of you, all of us.’

  ‘Oh Mum.’ I took a step towards her, my hand outstretched. ‘I know how much it hurt you. I tried so hard to be a good girl, so you’d love me and stop torturing yourself. All I ever wanted was for us to be happy again.’

  Mum took my hand, her eyes wet with tears. ‘If I’d stopped sooner, you’d never have thought to be a surrogate and we wouldn’t be in this terrible situation.’

  ‘What’s happened now is not your fault. I wanted to do this. I think it was my way of trying to fix the past. Despite everything, it’s helped me to come to terms with what happened to you.’

  Mum nodded, unable to speak. I put my arms around her and wondered why we hadn’t been able to be this honest a long time ago.

  ‘I have something for you.’ She broke away from me and reached out to the counter for a small gift she pressed into my hand. I unpeeled the tape and took off the silver wrapping paper. Inside the box was a pendant with three small gold rings on a chain.

  ‘One for each of your children,’ Mum said, wiping her tears away.

  ‘It’s beautiful, Mum, thank you.’ I hugged her.

  Steve brought Mum’s presents in. She unwrapped a framed photo of Alice and another of Rose and Robert, the one originally meant for Brenda.

  ‘They’re just perfect, thank you.’

  Steve helped me fasten the chain around my neck. I kissed each gold ring, saying all their names, silently praying for the twins’ safe return.

  We ate Christmas dinner and watched the Queen’s speech, followed by the news, but there were no updates.

  ‘Will you let me know as soon as you hear something?’ Mum asked as we cleared the pudding bowls.

  ‘Yes, of course.’ My stomach went into a spin. I tried my hardest to believe the twins were among the ones found safe in that house. By the sound of it, those babies were healthy and well looked after. But a tiny itch of doubt kept scratching the back of my mind. Were they just the lucky ones?

  * * *

  On the drive home, Steve reached for my arm and gave it a gentle tap. ‘I’m so glad you had a chat with your mum.’

  ‘So am I. It’s the first time I’ve had the courage to tell her how I really feel.’ I lifted the pendant she’d given me, the three gold rings. ‘I still remember feeling hopeful every time she got pregnant that this was going to be the one. But the inevitable would happen and by the last one, I’d lost her for good. It was as though each loss broke her in pieces, and she never quite fit back together. She’d be cold and silent for days after, sometimes weeks, as though she’d forgotten that she already had a living, breathing daughter right there, one that loved her and longed for her cuddles. She’d turned to stone, forgotten how to show love. And then I think of her before it all, as this young vivacious woman, blonde hair sweeping back and forth as we danced round the kitchen to David Bowie on the radio, me barely up to her waist then, swinging our arms from side to side. It felt like my mummy had been stolen from me.’

  Steve rested his hand in mine and we sat in silence for several minutes.

  ‘I hope you can both put it behind you.’

  ‘Do you know, the more I think about it, the more I realise I’ve been trying to turn the past into something positive to help myself.’

  ‘I’m so proud of you.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  * * *

  It was the day after Boxing Day when the police came back with the DNA results.

  ‘I thought you’d tell us over the phone,’ I said, letting Inspector Johnson in. His nose and cheeks were ruddy, probably from too much Christmas cheer.

  ‘Not with this kind of news.’ He sat in a chair opposite us on the sofa. I tried to swallow but my throat closed up.

  ‘One of the babies matches your DNA,’ he said.

  ‘Only one?’ I cried.

  ‘I’m afraid so. Your baby girl.’ He allowed himself a brief smile.

  ‘When will I get her back?’ I laced my fingers, bending them back and forth. I would never let my babies out of my sight again.

  ‘We hope to reunite you with your daughter soon. You’ll need to make an emergency application to the court as soon as possible. Once social services have visited you, and both they and the judge are satisfied that you were misled, we can bring her home.’

  ‘Where’s our boy?’ Steve asked.

  The inspector sighed. ‘We’re not sure where he is at the moment. Several of the babies are missing.’

  What did that even mean? Where could he be and who was he with? The momentary spark of joy at the news that Rose was safe and well, had been whipped out from under our feet.

  ‘How many surrogates did he use?’ Steve pulled a face.

  ‘At least twelve that we know of.’

  ‘He’s sick.’ I pushed my fist to my mouth.

  ‘There is one more thing we found out. The missed calls you received were from a mobile phone registered to Paula Bennett – Brenda. We think you were right in your assumption that she tried to warn you not to find them. Unfortunately, she paid for it with her life.’

  ‘Oh Brenda. It must have been her messaging me on the forum too. I asked her to call me. There I was thinking she’d betrayed me. I should have asked her more questions about how Malcolm was treating her.’ I blinked at Steve as the enormity of our part in it hit me. I swallowed before I could speak. ‘We might have been able to save her.’

  Chapter Sixty

  We woke to the news the next day that Malcolm had been hiding out in a smaller property in Peterborough, where they believed he kept several women against their will, who he used as intended mothers; women he blackmailed to carry out his sick plan, using a different name and a different woman each time. He went back to the big house to take the newest baby there. The police had followed him after the handover from the surrogate on the forum. My call had confirmed the address.

  ‘All that time they were looking for him, he was right under their noses.’ Steve pointed at the TV with his razor, then ducked back into the bathroom.

  ‘They’ve also found the missing husband of the surrogate that helped us – found dead in the grounds – not the only one either. God, she must be in pieces. They think the other bodies could be intended mothers who tried to escape.’

  ‘Shit, you’re joking me?’ Steve peeped round the door, shaving foam covering half his face.

  I stirred half a Weetabix into warm milk and tested how hot it was on my tongue. I handed Alice the plastic spoon. She dug down into the milky mixture and shovelled it into her mouth. What if Steve had gone searching for Malcolm on his own? That could have been his body found at the house. Goosebumps rose on my arms.

  ‘Guess what Malcolm’s real name is?’ I called.

  ‘Go on?’

  ‘Leslie Brown.’

  ‘Wasn’t Brown the name on the cheques?’

  ‘Yep.’ I couldn’t take my eyes off the TV.

  ‘What did they just say? Turn it up,’ Steve shouted.

  I rewound the news.

  ‘He was living in the loft of a three-bedroom detached with one of the intended mothers. She was abducted from her family six months ago.’

  Steve came in dabbing his face on a towel.

  ‘They’ve filmed inside the house we went to.’

  I pressed play. The camera panned round the front of the property. Inside the entrance hall, the reporter, a man in a suit, walked around the ground floor until he reached the massive kitchen and glass-roofed annexe with sofa, opening up to the large garden and a wooded area beyond, where the bodies were found.

  The reporter paused in the living room with the cream leather sofas, where Malcolm and Brenda had been sitting the first time they’d Skyped us. Then he strolled across to the stairs and spoke right into the camera. ‘And who would have
thought that up this swirling staircase, in this exquisite house on a private road in Peterborough, would be a secret that has not only shocked this quiet neighbourhood, but the whole nation.’

  When he reached the top of the stairs, he strolled along the landing, pushing open door after door to reveal the now-empty cots, in five of the eight bedrooms.

  ‘This is where nine newborn babies were found, some only days old, acquired by the self-proclaimed entrepreneur and businessman, Leslie Brown. Many, if not all of the babies, were fathered by him, with unsuspecting surrogate mothers, like Charlotte Morgan. Did Leslie Brown see himself as a god-like figure wanting to fill the world with his offspring? Or is there a more sinister reason as to why he wanted so many children, and why several of the babies are still missing?’ The camera panned in close to the reporter in his sharp suit and rolling banter. ‘One theory is that these innocent babies have already been trafficked to the other side of the world, to be brought up as domestic slaves or, worse, as sex workers. What has happened to them is a mystery that may never be solved.’

  ‘They can’t say that!’ I shot out of my seat and screamed at the TV.

  ‘How much worse can this fucking get?’ Steve pulled on a shirt.

  ‘Have they no idea what this is doing to us?’ I threw a teddy at the screen.

  Steve wrapped his arms around my shaking body.

  ‘I don’t know what to think any more.’ I broke away from him and drew my hands down my face. I hadn’t bothered wearing make-up in weeks.

  Steve grabbed his coat off the back of the chair. ‘Come on, let’s do this.’

  I wiped Alice’s mouth and fumbled putting her new red shoes on.

  ‘Are we ready?’ Steve picked Alice up and kissed my forehead.

  We dropped Alice at nursery and drove straight to the court. The clerk was expecting us. My head was throbbing. She ushered us into a small room, not unlike the one at the police station. She talked us through filling out an emergency application to the court to get our baby girl back, clearly stating that we were victims of a crime. Surely the fact that we’d been duped by a criminal would go in our favour?

  Soon we were back in the daylight. I was surprised to see that the world still looked the same. We had no idea which way the decision would go. We stood on the steps facing each other. Steve took my hands in his as though we were standing at the altar. He looked down at his feet then up at me with red-rimmed eyes.

  ‘I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to get our baby girl back.’ We held each other tight, both silently more determined than ever, hoping Rose would come back to us soon. Today could decide the rest of our lives.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Steve went back to work the next day. Mum came over and helped me clean the flat from top to bottom. We went to a garden centre afterwards. I wandered around following Mum, not taking anything in. We sat in the café drinking coffee, but everywhere I looked there were mothers with their babies. I didn’t know whether to cry or scream.

  ‘What time did you say she’s coming?’ Mum asked in a soft voice.

  ‘Three.’ I checked my phone. ‘Steve should be on his way home soon.’

  ‘Do you have an idea what sort of thing she’s going to ask?’

  ‘The policewoman said they’ll want to know about our circumstances, see where we live, what kind of people we are.’ I shoved my cup away so it rattled in the saucer. ‘See what kind of mother gives her babies away.’ Maybe they’d take pity on us for being fools.

  ‘Stop that now. Will they know if the council can rehouse you?’

  ‘I suppose it depends how quickly they process our application and whether they think we deserve to get Rose back.’

  ‘Surely it’s about Rose deserving to be returned to her parents?’

  To a mother who gave her baby girl away?

  * * *

  Steve was already at home with Alice when we arrived. He was wiping over the kitchen surfaces and cupboards while Alice played on her toy piano. I knelt down and smoothed her hair, kissed her soft cheek. She held her hand out to me and I blew on her palm, making her giggle.

  ‘We’ve done all that.’ Mum waved at Steve to stop.

  ‘I know. I just wanted to do something.’

  Steve and I hugged. I drew back first and for a long moment we stared at each other, then parted to opposite sides of the room. He hung the tea towel over the cooker door and lined up the coffee, tea and sugar jars so the names were at the front. I moved Alice’s toy box against the back wall next to her cot, knocking her rag doll onto the carpet. The one I’d bought her when she was born. I picked it up. The rosy cheeks were faded. Its sequin eyes coming loose. I pictured Rose’s little face and Robert next to her, grabbing her hand. In slow motion, my body folded as if the air had been punched from my lungs. Steve reached out and helped me to the sofa. He held me until my throat was too raw to cry any more.

  ‘There’s no way they’re going to give Rose back to us, is there?’ I said eventually in a croaky voice.

  ‘They will, I promise you,’ Steve cupped my face and looked deep in my eyes, ‘and if they don’t, we’ll fight to get our children back. You’ve got a whole army of supporters on social media too, they’ll help us.’

  I nodded and wiped my nose. He stroked my hair.

  ‘I’ve already spoken to Dan about helping him out with deliveries, at weekends and early mornings.’

  ‘Have you?’ I pulled back and held his hands.

  ‘We’ll have another mouth to feed, hopefully two.’

  I kissed his palms. ‘A women’s magazine has asked to interview me about surrogacy and my campaign. They’re offering to pay me. I’d like to do more if I can, spread the word.’

  Alice came and sat with us, dragging a large picture book onto her knees.

  ‘You know it’s almost three?’ Mum held her hand out to me. I took it and stood up. She hugged me without saying a word. When she pulled away, she was crying too.

  ‘Look at the pair of us. What’s the social worker going to think?’ I said.

  ‘Steve’s right though, Charlotte, we have to fight this all the way. We’ll do everything in our power to get your twins back.’

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  The woman from social services turned up in a Mini Cooper, umbrella in one hand and our lives in the other, tucked inside a soft leather briefcase. When I let her in the main door, she shook rain from her coat across the tiled floor.

  I cleared my throat. ‘I’m Charlotte.’

  ‘Lorna Drake.’

  As we shook hands, I tried to find her behind the straight fringe and orange-rimmed glasses. Beady black eyes blinked back at me, not giving anything away.

  I silently let out a deep sigh and led her into our flat. Mum leapt forward, introducing herself. Steve stood behind holding Alice, who was sucking her thumb.

  ‘Please, come and sit down.’ Mum swept her arm out to show the odd array of seats, then fussed around, asking if she’d come far, if she wanted tea or coffee. No, she didn’t like anything with caffeine. Orange squash.

  Lorna gave a brief smile and sat at one end of the sofa bed, knees pointed together. There were splashes of rain and grit up her skin-coloured tights. She hauled her case off the floor and took a clipboard and unicorn pencil case out.

  ‘Let’s start, shall we? How many rooms do you have here?’ Her pen was poised above a tick box.

  ‘Erm… this is it, except the bathroom just here and the kitchenette over there. I extended my arms in both directions like cabin crew.

  She shook her head. ‘You’ll need a bigger house for starters.’

  I dropped into the wicker chair. How could I feel defeated already?

  ‘Can we apply for one now?’ Steve asked. He opened a book for Alice and sat on the floor with her on his knee.

  ‘You’ll have to contact the council and they’ll email the forms to you.’

  ‘Can’t they come and live in my house temporarily, it’s three bedrooms
?’ Mum gave her the glass of squash. Lorna drank it in one go and handed it straight back.

  ‘I can come and assess its suitability, yes.’ She tapped her pen on the paper. ‘I’d need you to fill out a police check form too, please.’

  ‘Yes, whatever you need,’ Mum said.

  I threw a glance at Steve. His eyes flicked up and down.

  Lorna asked me why I’d wanted to become a surrogate, how we met Malcolm and Brenda, what sort of checks we did to find out about them.

  ‘What do you mean checks?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, for instance, to see if they really were married, did own a legitimate business, lived at the address they gave you. I understand you didn’t go to their house at all?’ Her eyebrows shot up as she flicked through a few of her papers and pointed to something. ‘Not even once?’

  ‘They said they lived in Orkney. It was too far for us, so we met them at a hotel in Peterborough most times.’ It sounded ridiculous now, not visiting their home, but it didn’t seem important at the time. We’d met them in real life, seen their house on Skype calls. They were grateful for what I was doing for them. We’d had no reason not to trust them.

  ‘Right on their doorstep as it turns out. Handy for them.’

  ‘How were we meant to know that?’

  Lorna’s black eyes were on me again. I thought she’d never look away.

  ‘We had no reason not to believe them.’ I realised how naïve we’d been. My head throbbed.

  ‘We met them one time in London before we decided to have their baby,’ Steve added.

  ‘They seemed a genuinely nice couple.’ I looked over at Mum standing in the kitchenette, her expression stern.

  ‘You gave the twins to them not knowing who they really were.’ Lorna rested her hands on the piece of paper full of notes, no doubt all about how unfit we were. Oh god, she’d already made up her mind.